


36th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [36]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, My Time At Portia (Video Game), Overwatch (Video Game), Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Begging, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Inflation, F/M, Felching, Femdom, Humiliation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rape/Non-con Elements, Somnophilia, Victim Blaming, Werewolves, human!B.O.B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: ch.1 McCree/Hanzo/Bob | ch.2 Akande/Reaper | ch.3 Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia | ch.4 Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia | ch.5 Reyn/Dunban | ch.6 Reaper/Soldier76 | ch.7 Bruce/Jason | ch.8 McCree/Hanzo | ch.9 Reaper/Soldier76 | ch.10 McCree/Hanzo
Relationships: Albert/Sonia (My Time At Portia), B.O.B./Hanzo Shimada, Builder/Gust (My Time At Portia), Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Dunban/Reyn (Xenoblade Chronicles), Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Fic Batches [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1268996
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	1. McHanzo/Bob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo/Bob – werewolf Bob – Hanzo routinely shames McCree’s dick game so Jesse thinks it’s a fun idea to let Bob have a go at him. He realizes too late that his stroke of genius... isn’t so brilliant as he thought.

Jesse has never had someone beneath him that was as infuriatingly condescending as Hanzo. Nobody has ever complained about him fucking like a truck with a faulty engine. In fact, he’s had the impression that all his conquests always had liked the feeling of him grunt fucking his way into their bellies with his big dick, and pressing loving little kisses all over their face as he did it.

Hanzo, of fucking course, has to be the exception of the rule. While sometimes he seemed content to humor Jesse and curl his limbs around him, sighing breathy little moans into his ear that got him fired up like nothing else… most of the time he would lay there with the most infuriatingly bored expression.

It’s all a bluff, of course, but… well shit. Jesse could only take so many hits to his pride before he started to get resentful.

“Hey, Hanzo?” he murmurs when he’s shot his load one of these times, dick feeling still deliciously achy, and sweat slowly drying on his body.

Hanzo, already fishing for something to wipe at the mess Jesse left behind, just grunts.

“You know, I got this friend…”

“Congratulations.”

“Shut up, bastard – let me finish. You’re bored by my dick, yeah? I got this friend who should be able to give you a thrill ya won’t forget for a while.”

Hanzo turns towards him now, frowning, but clearly interested, though he tries not to seem too eager about it.

“What are you talking about?”

Jesse grunts and reaches for his phone. He has to search for a bit until he finds a picture of Bob and him, letting Hanzo see. Jesse is a big guy, but next to Bob he looks almost like a twink. He can see Hanzo’s face going slack for a second as he stares at the friendly giant that has an arm curled around Jesse’s shoulders.

“You wanna play with him?” he asks casually, trying not to let on how his heart is beating something fierce in his chest. Hanzo’s dark eyes are glinting with an interest Jesse hasn’t seen in months.

“Why would you suggest that?” Hanzo asks shrewdly, looking at him from the side.

Jesse shrugs.

“Just want you to enjoy yourself for once since I’m such a _bad lay_ ,” he drawls, eying Hanzo from the side. “He’s a nice guy.” He adds on like an afterthought.

Hanzo looks like he will argue with him just for the sake of not seeming too eager about the prospect of Bob’s fat cock, but Jesse can see in his eyes that he will go along with it.

He smirks just a little.

\---

He hadn’t lied to Hanzo; Bob really is a nice guy. Not big on words, but definitely loyal to his friends.

So when Jesse not only promises him Hanzo’s tight bod and well-fucked hole, but also lets him know what a prissy little bitch the bastard could be, Bob is only too eager to accept the proposition.

He’s gentle and quiet, but not too shy to not fuck one of his best friends’ boyfriend in front of said best friend.

Hanzo’s face when he sees Bob duck through the door is priceless. Almost as good as his face when Bob lets his pants fall and shows off the massive cock swinging between his muscular thighs.

The very best face is, though, when Bob shows off his true nature. There is something very satisfying of watching Hanzo’s expression go through a whole slew of emotions as he sees the big man transform before his eyes, his hulking stature curling over Hanzo’s body, pinning him in between two massive paws that dig sharp claws into the bedding.

“What is-” Hanzo doesn’t finish his question. His dark eyes jump over towards Jesse, staring at him for just a second before going back up to the muzzle above him. The fur beneath Bob’s twitching nose and down his jowls his thicker, imitating the facial hair he keeps when in his human form.

“Thought you might like a bit of a surprise,” Jesse croons. He’s never really seen Bob in this form and he has to admit that it is pretty… impressive. So much thick fur; so many sharp points ready to tear and shred.

Bob’s tongue is lolling out of his long maw, yet despite his fearsome exterior his tail is wagging excitedly.

Jesse is not sure if Hanzo has believed the underground rumors of werewolves existing before, but he sure as hell has to now. He’s still pasty white in shock, but he also does not fight Bob as he nudges his way between his thighs.

Whether that is because he is just too flabbergasted from the sight to do anything about it, or because he has caught a glimpse of the slippery red canine cock sliding from its sheath, Jesse couldn’t say.

He would believe both, if he were honest.

He ambles closer when he sees Hanzo’s fingers white knuckling the sheets, and gently brushes fingertips over the back of his hand as Bob starts to nudge at Hanzo’s chin with his snout until he has access to his throat.

While Jesse fancies himself a service top, he can’t deny that he isn’t on par with Bob. He’s heard about how animalistic werewolves were in their shift… how difficult it was to remain lucid when the blood was boiling beneath the skin, but Bob… well. He is as gentle as could be, huge body moving slow, slippery canine cock sliding against the insides of Hanzo’s thighs to leave cooling smears of pre-cum behind.

Jesse had thought he would be okay with Hanzo finally getting put in his place by Bob and his gargantuan dick, but watching him as he gets filled, he starts to wonder if his reasoning had been faulty.

It only takes some five minutes or so until Hanzo is clawing at Bob’s fur, holding on for dear life as the big werewolf gently rocks into him.

Bob hasn’t said a single word since stepping into the room, but he seems to have captivated Hanzo into some kind of spell anyway. There is no preparation needed; just his tapered, fever hot cock slip-sliding deeper and deeper as he nudges his way in until Jesse can _see_ Hanzo’s belly bulging.

There is no way Hanzo can pretend he doesn’t enjoy the ride he’s being given. He hollers within minutes, knees clamped around Bob’s hips, holding on for dear life as he gets speared on werewolf dick again and again until all he can do is hiccup weakly.

He’s not even paying any attention to Jesse anymore.

Shit… maybe he shot into his own foot with this stunt.


	2. Akande/Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel/Akande – chastity device; begging – Gabriel really needs to shoot his load. But will Akande let him?

Gabriel can be so very soft and sweet when he wants something. Akande has figured that out a long time ago, but it never fails to hit him somewhere deep when it happens.

Akande is not made out of ice, despite what the cogs in Talon’s machine might think. Especially Gabriel’s big brown eyes looking at him all needy and begging are… well. They hit hard.

“What is it, darling?” Akande murmurs, one large finger curled beneath Gabriel’s chin, thumb slowly brushing against the silky hair of his goatee. “What do you need?”

He asks like he doesn’t already know. It usually is the same issue that drives Gabriel to come crawling to him, kneeling down like a kitten and trying to gently bully him into giving him attention.

To his credit, it… always works. Akande spreads his knees to let him crawl in between. The motion causes light to glint off the polished silver cage between Gabriel’s massive thighs, drawing Akande’s gaze away from his beautiful, soft eyes. the sight never fails to excite him beyond belief. He has never been too interested in chaining his playmates up, but something about Gabriel letting him do this to him is just too… delicious.

His cock is as swollen as it can be, the flesh bulging between the rigid stainless steel rods curled around it.

“Hmmm I see,” he murmurs and leans forward until Gabriel has to tilt back, his hands on the ground, bracing himself as he basically offers up his poor, trussed up dick to Akande’s gentle fingers. He curls them around him like Gabriel’s cock is a sweet little animal, lifting it and looking at it from all sides.

It’s nice and heavy on his palm. A gorgeous specimen of a cock, really, and a tragedy to lock it away like this, if Akande didn’t thoroughly enjoy the surge of power it always gave him just looking at the predicament Gabriel let himself be put into of his own free will.

At the swollen, spongy tip, Akande can see wetness glinting. When he touches his fingertip to it, a clear string stretches between the touch points until it snaps quickly.

Gabriel’s chest is heaving, his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to see what Akande is doing to him.

“You want me to open this… is that it, darling?” Akande asks gently. Gabriel’s eyes open again. He stares at him mutely, skin looking to be stretched just a bit too tight over the bones as he nods jerkily.

He looks more than needy. He looks _desperate_ for it.

“I need to come,” he rasps. Without the mask, his voice usually sounds as lovely and smooth as it had when Akande had still been more or less part of normal society, and Overwatch had been loved by all.

Now, it is rough and trembling as if he had to try and not start bawling just from the sheer pressure that had been building in the background the longer he was held from emptying those big breeder balls he had.

Akande hums thoughtfully. He touches his finger once more to the tip, watching the string stretch and snap a few more times before he finally curls his hand around the swollen, caged cock and warms it in his palm.

Gabriel lets his head fall back and sobs, throat trembling. He needs it so bad, Akande can feel it vibrating beneath his skin when he puts one large hand right around Reaper’s throat.

Gabriel can’t even keep his hips still; they keep rocking forward, trying to clumsily fuck Akande’s fist even though the cage makes it difficult to get a good smooth rhythm going.

Akande hums thoughtfully. He lets Gabriel play for a few seconds before he slowly lets go of him and stands to personally go to the door of his office and lock it tight. As he walks, he can hear Gabriel whining behind him, desperate for that touch, but staying put like a good boy.

It is difficult to not immediately cave and give him what he’s begging for, but Akande knows from experience that withholding the gratification will lead to more delights.

“None of that now,” he croons and Gabriel immediately falls silent. Akande glances at few pieces of armor he has shed and thrown to the floor. He wonders whether any of the underlings have an inkling that the majority of Gabriel’s clothes are made from his own smoke.

Akande for one has found himself distracted by the thought more than once. It is so easy to pull his boy aside when crossing him in a hallway and have him free all those delicious essential parts for Akande’s greedy, groping hands or throbbing cock.

“Remind me… how long has it been this time?” he asks lazily as he slowly comes closer again, standing far enough away that Gabriel can’t just touch him if he so desired, enjoying the sight of the silver glinting cage and the trembling, muscular body.

He says it like he isn’t deeply aware himself just how long it has been since Gabriel has been allowed to shoot his load the last time.

“A month…” Gabriel says slowly. Akande smiles a little.

“That’s not much, though, is it?” he replies with a gently condescending tone, and comes closer to sit down heavily in his chair. He watches Gabriel in front of him thoughtfully, feeling all gooey and affectionate when he sees him struggling with the fact that, yes, he’s been denied for far longer than that, but also he wants to come just _so badly_.

“Ask me nicely,” Akande orders softly.

Gabriel’s face makes a complicated little dance before he crawls closer and curls his arms around Akande’s leg, hugging it against his chest like one would a large plushie. He presses his cheek against Akande’s thigh and whispers with a brittle voice: “Please… please, I need to come so badly…”

Akande braces his cheek against his fist, watching Gabriel with no significant expression that would tell him whether he is closer to getting his request granted or not.

Gabriel becomes visibly more desperate, his fingers curling claw like into Akande’s perfectly pressed slacks. Usually he would not let him get away with destroying his expensive clothes like this, but he is intrigued by what Gabriel will do in a bid to get his way.

“Please!” he whines sweetly. “I will do whatever you want.” _As if he didn’t do that anyway._ “And I won’t complain even once.”

Akande smiles slowly. He slowly trails a fingertip along his full lips as he keeps watching Gabriel idly. He begs like a child would to get a piece of candy or the cute puppy from the pet store.

He hums softly and reaches out, gently rubbing his palm over Gabriel’s scalp until he finally stops trying to bury his face into Akande’s leg and slowly, hopefully looks up. God, but those beautiful eyes are always a punch in the gut.

“No, you may not come,” Akande tells him with a serene, little smile. “Try again next week, darling. And come up with some better incentives, yes?”

Gabriel whines, heartbroken, but nods all the same.


	3. Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia – more humiliation; cbt; femdom; asexual character; non-binary character – the boys can’t just do what they want. Sonia and Builder will show them.
> 
> Prequel: B33F5  
> Sequel: B36F4

“What’s this now? You started without me, huh?” they say through their grin, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.

Gust’s lingering feelings of guilt start to dissipate when he sees how very much unsurprised Builder is now after the first confusion of stepping in the middle of an orgasm has made place for their apparent glee.

“Are you having fun?” they ask Sonia after their eyes have done a cursory sweep over Albert and Gust. They aren’t addressing them; not even paying much attention to them as if they were nothing but pets. Or maybe household appliances.

Gust turns his head a little and peeks through a curtain of lightly dishevelled blond hair toward his best friend. Albert’s head is red as a matchstick, his hands now folded in front of his erection. He looks deathly embarrassed about Builder suddenly being there and casually having a look at his junk.

He’s usually not too shy when he throws himself against anything that breathes and tries to get it into his bed, but as so many things concerning Albert this too must be nothing more than a facade. Or maybe he needs the barrier of his clothes to feel as cocksure as he usually does.

_Or maybe_ , Gust thinks when he directs his gaze back forward and sees Sonia’s cool, calculating stare at the two of them while Gust’s cum drips from her thighs, _maybe Sonia is pretty dang scary and has put her husband in his place._

“Well,” Sonia says suddenly and Gust flinches, blinking, trying to get back in the moment after having drifted off in his own thoughts, brain sluggish and a bit mushy after his orgasm even though Builder had inadvertently ruined it. “It was certainly… amusing, I suppose. But fun? No. Not really.”

Builder’s grin fades somewhat and they put the box they had held beneath their arm on a nearby table. Gust still can’t properly see its contents without starting to crane his neck like a way too curious boy, so he stays put and just stares at the two of them that will be deciding over their fates tonight.

“No? Why? What happened?” Builder asks, clearly upset by the thought of their boy having misbehaved. Their eyes briefly flick to the two men sitting on the A&G Construction couch like misbehaving schoolboys; naked and flushed like lobsters.

Only now there are four perfect diagonal lines visible on Albert’s chest from where Sonia must have scratched him earlier before Gust even came in, some of them clearly having dragged across his sensitive little nipples.

“What did they do?”

Sonia clicks her tongue, putting her hands into her hips. She seems so easy about her own nakedness; the wetness slowly sliding down her shapely thighs from both her husband’s and Gust’s loads. She looks so lovely in the light that Gust just knows is doing nothing complimentary to either him or Albert, her brown skin seemingly radiating warmth. He slowly curls his hands into fists and relaxes them again, still able to remember how silky her shoulders had been beneath his grasping hands.

“It’s more like what they _didn’t_ do,” she replies cooly, then indicates her crotch lazily. “They just shot their loads like little _brats_ , and couldn’t last even _half_ of what I wanted them to.”

Builder’s face visibly relaxes again at that when they realize that she is just playing the game. They hum thoughtfully, making a big show out of looking at the mess the two have left. Sonia, unashamed, even turns and leans forward, spreading her cheeks and thighs with both hands to let Builder see her plump labia and stretched hole, everything wet with premature loads.

“Oh man… I thought they were better than that,” Builder says sympathetically.

Next to Gust, Albert slightly shifts. When he glances over, Albert is still flushed like a warning lamp, his eyes gone a bit glassy as he watches the antics of his wife showing himself off to someone clearly not interested in fucking her.

Gust softly clears his throat, trying to alert him to the fact that he should cut that shit out right away, but instead he causes Sonia and Builder to look over to them. Sonia’s plump mouth, red lipstick slightly smudged, turns down. She stands back up, stomping her way over to them. Both men recoil, hands up in defence as if she would hit them. The sight of her enraged face enough to distract even from the sight of her tits bouncing as she walks.

“You think that’s hot, huh?” she hisses at Albert, her hand shooting out and grabbing him by the hair to pull him forward. His face distorts but he doesn’t try and dislodge her cruel little fingers. “You’re absolutely _useless_ , do you know that? You got the stamina of a little boy, and guess what? I don’t _do_ little boys.” she reaches down with her other hand like a bird of prey striking at a helpless little animal, and Gust winces even before he hears Albert’s pained, breathless sound of getting his balls grabbed and squeezed something fierce.

“Sonia, I think…” Builder pipes up like there’s nothing unusual happening. They have wandered back to their toy box and are rummaging around inside it. Sonia turns her head to them without giving up her tight grip on Albert’s hair and balls. Gust can see how her stormy expression immediately smooths out when she deals with Builder. It is kind of disturbing to watch, but he also can’t help but be impressed by her dedication for the play. She could have made a lot of cash in the bigger cities as an absolutely fabulous domme, he is pretty sure.

“What is it, dear?”

“I mean… they’re sitting there so nice. So we can play with them side by side, you know? I think it wasn’t fair that Gust just came without you having had your fun so we should make sure he doesn’t do that again, right?” they are talking like they do when they are deep in the blueprints of some new machine they’re building. As Gust watches, they pull out a length of beautifully coiled, thin rope. In the light it looks very soft and silky.

He is unprepared for his sudden visceral want to feel it on his body. He wedges his fingers underneath his thighs so he wouldn’t reach out for it unbidden.

Sonia is waiting patiently, while Albert is taut like a bowstring, his breathing coming in little wheezing whines as she continues to steadily crush his balls. It is quite admirable how much control she has, really.

“I’ll prepare him, and you make sure to put your husband in his place?” Builder says with a big, charming smile, lifting up the beautiful little rope to indicate they will use it.

Sonia looks intrigued, nodding along while her eyes are fixed on the coil in Builder’s hands just like Gust’s gaze is.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll show you something I’ve read about in some texts I found in the ruins. They’ve called it ‘bondage’.”


	4. Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gust/Builder; Albert/Sonia – bondage; cunnilingus; felching; humiliation – Builder tries out what they have read up on.
> 
> Prequel: B36F3  
> Sequel: B37F12

Sonia watches with the utmost fascination as Builder comes to a squat in front of Gust and begins to patiently unfurl the coils of silky thin rope. They drape them over Gust’s thighs just to keep everything nice and organized.

Gust’s breath hitches, his fingers curling around the edge of the couch he’s on. The silk tickles against the blond, barely visible hairs covering him. Soft little baby hairs that Builder likes to sometimes pull on and make him wince.

This time around they seem to be in a more gentle mood because they haven’t yet hurt him once. Not that he would oppose to the harsh treatment. In fact, all the tickling and light fingertip brushes make him tremble in anticipation of anything harsher to come.

“What will you be doing?” Sonia asks, as she finally lets go of of Albert for a moment to properly watch. Albert’s sigh of relief is very audible. As Gust glances over, gaze immediately drawn to the almost purple tipped erection gently wagging in in front of him.

When he manages to stare up at his face again, feeling weird for looking at his best friend’s raging hard-on, Albert is staring right back at him. It’s clear that they’re thinking the exact same thing at that moment:

They’ll need to get a new couch after this one.

“I’ll tie him up… maybe it’ll help him keep himself under control,” Builder chirps. They sound as happy-go-lucky as they do when the mayor presents them with a new problem that they’ll just tackle head on.

_No problem! We’ll get this done somehow!_

They seem worryingly unperturbed by anything going on around them. The room had to be stinking of sex by now, but they do not look particularly grossed out by it, nor the fact that just in front of their knees there’s a puddle of Gust’s cooling cum from when he’s shot his load just moments earlier.

Sonia scoffs.

“I believe it when I see it,” she declares, then adds derisively: “I thought he would be better trained than that, to be honest.”

Builder glances up at her, their eyebrows drawn up. “Me too, to be honest. But maybe he didn’t have an incentive to be good without me around? It’s the first time he got to play with someone else, really.”

She grunts and reaches back, grabbing her husband’s hair and pulling him close to mash his face into her ass now that she’s basically with her back to him.

“You! Do something productive and clean me up.”

Gust doesn’t know how to feel about any of this. The fact that they are talking about them – him in particular – as if they were not there… as if they had no say in the matter…

It is humiliating and exciting at the same time. He squirms slightly, inhaling, opening his mouth to start apologizing for his poor conduct early on, but Builder throws him a gaze that has him practically swallow his tongue and quiet down again quickly.

He lowers his gaze submissively, then spreads his thighs when Builder’s cool fingers urge him to do so. The need to reach over and hide his junk like Albert had done earlier is rising suddenly, so he digs his fingers into the cushion while he hears the wet lapping sound next to him impossibly close.

Gust glances over for a second, his ears pulsating hot beneath the fall of his hair as he sees Albert’s face stuffed between his wife’s legs, lapping at the mess the two of them had left tonight. He wants to apologize again. The thought of Albert licking up his cum is hitting him somewhere deep and vulnerable where it aches in a weirdly different way than Sonia’s belittling.

Sonia who is sighing softly, her head tilted back, hands on her knees as she rocks back against her husband’s face to feel his tongue push deeper into her sloppy hole.

“There… he’s much better when his useless dick isn’t involved,” she murmurs. When no answer comes other than the two men shuddering and flushing, she glances down to see Builder being quite focused on starting to truss Gust’s cock up.

The thin rope feels cool against the overheated skin of his cock. He wishes it would help him to calm down, but he’s so hard that every touch, even just the accidental brush of a knuckle, has his pulse spike and his fingers dig into the cushions in a desperate bid not to come again. Not now. Not so soon.

Not with Builder sitting right in front of him. He knows that they would make him pay if he were to shoot his load on them. Unbidden. Again.

He holds out hope for the desperate need to come to recede once the ropes draw tighter around his cock and balls just like Builder had promised Sonia, but soon enough he has to realize that it doesn’t help. Not really.

He has no idea where Builder has learned this new skill – whether this ominous writing he has found in the ruins has maybe even contained some pictures – but soon enough Gust feels how the rope has been curled snugly around the base of his cock and his balls, and how his testicles are being gently separated as well.

His eyes are clenched shut for the most part, but when Builder tells him to look, he opens them immediately to stare down at himself. They all are. Except Albert whose face is wet with spit and cum and who gets urged back to lick at Sonia’s messy cunt within moments.

Gust stares in shock at just how… pretty it looks. How delicately Builder has wrapped the rope in a criss-cross pattern around his painfully hard cock. The pale blue of the fabric builds a surprisingly nice contrast to how dark Gust’s junk has flushed. His cock and balls have taken on the hues of bruises even though he knows that the ropes can’t be too tight. They don’t feel like it, anyway. Not at all.

As they stare, his cock flexes pathetically, as if stretching out in its new pretty confines. His balls feel impossibly tender. Like they are full to bursting. Sensitive enough that when Builder tickles them like one would tickle beneath a baby’s chin, stars explode in front of Gust’s eyes and his hips jerk away, a rough cry wrenched out of his throat.

He’s coming. He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s so _sure_ of it! Oh _Peach_ , how could he not… how could he-

“Oh wow that’s interesting.”

Sonia’s cool voice somewhat penetrates the fog that has descended over Gust’s thoughts. She sounds weirdly distorted. When he looks down, his cock is still painfully hard, still flushed an almost purple red. There’s no cum to be seen.

As he stares mutely, unable to comprehend, Builder sits back with a satisfied smirk and rubs their hands together.

“Great! I’m sure he can service you now until you’re satisfied!”


	5. Reyn/Dunban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyn/Dunban (Xenoblade Chronicles) – multiple orgasms; fucking in plain sight – As they camp in Satorl Marsh next to the secure light, Reyn shows off his qualities as a service top that can fuck like a bull.

Just as Dickson has promised, the gentle light left by the High Entia in Satorl Marsh is keeping the monsters at bay.

It is a much needed respite after their arduous journey here. Dunban has said that he could practically feel the marshland ending soon – maybe he had been able to catch a little whiff of clean air, but he had been adamant not to divulge the reason for his sudden premonition.

Reyn felt that maybe Dunban just liked to pull their legs a little bit every now and then. He sure enjoyed being all mysterious and handsome, in any case.

Shulk looks very moody and broody for the longest time until Reyn finally gets him to relax and take a shuteye. Wasn’t healthy for a bloke to just be thinking and worrying the whole damn day; even if it was a bloke like Shulk who spends his whole life in that lab.

When everything is nice and quiet – as quiet as it can be right in the open of the marshland wilderness – Reyn rounds the High Entia light to look for Dunban. He’s almost misses the hero of the homs. He looks strangely small between two of the almost insect like legs that spider out from the ancient lighttower.

Reyn comes closer, bending low, trying to see if Dunban is actually sleeping, but before he can nudge him with his boot, Dunban lifts his head some and glances at him through dark strands of his wild hair.

There’s a bit of a smirk on his lips as he jerks his chin, indicating for Reyn to come closer.

So he hadn’t been imagining things after all. He glances around, but the structure of the High Entia light is obscuring everybody else that has scattered around it in its glow. He slowly puts his weapon down and leans it against the structure as well to keep it as much off the moist ground as possible, then squats down in front of Dunban.

“Gotta stay quiet,” he tells him in a stage whisper. “Don’t want the others come lookin’.”

Dunban nods solemnly as he unbuckles his cape and moves to spread it out on the ground.

“Indeed. I am not keen on having Dickson give us pointers. The old coot would have it in him, I’m sure.”

Reyn only listens with half an ear, eyes on Dunban’s right arm hanging uselessly at his side. He shakes himself out of it when he realizes that he is being watched by kind, dark eyes and clears his throat, digging around in his pocket and producing a little container with lamp oil.

“Lets keep our clothes on… just if… you know. If we need to put up appearances quick.”

Dunban looks sceptical, but Reyn waves his concerns away.

“Don’t worry. Sharla’s been on my arse for days sayin’ I stink worse than the Brogs down here. Don’t think she’ll notice any additional stink.”

It only occurs to him afterwards that this might not exactly been something that’ll get Dunban good and going, but the hero seems unperturbed by Reyn’s crudeness just as usual. He even snorts and finally puts his satchel behind his back and starts to work on the opening of his pants.

“Very well. I will follow your guidance, then.”

Reyn grins. He shuffles closer and gently pulls Dunban’s hand away.

“Alright! You just lay back and I do all the work. Sounds good?”

Dunban smiles at him, a few little wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.

“Sounds good.”

.o.

They’re as quiet as can be. Reyn thinks that they have a lot of goddamn luck that the tower is so close to that little stream winding its way through the marsh. Its gurgling is loud enough to mask some of Reyn’s more eager thrusts as he keeps drilling Dunban with the restlessness of a machine.

One of the colonel’s exercises or him fucking one of his comrades – it’s all the same to Reyn.

Sweat is running down his face, and dripping from the tip of his nose. His armor feels like a swamp but he’s used to it by now. Sooner or later they would get the opportunity to change clothes, he’s sure of it.

Every now and then he is grunting softly, Dunban’s insides hot and gripping him tight. The lamp oil is only doing so much to slick the way. The burn is slowly crawling through his body and makes his toes curl to the point of a cramp in his boots.

Dunban, to his credit, has started out quiet as a mouse. His face had contorted every now and then, showing off that the burn is something not only Reyn can feel – but after the second orgasm fucked out of him by the insistent pushing of the fat cock into his guts, everything kind of… shifts.

Dunban’s face becomes slack, and his softly puffed breaths are starting to carry a distinct little moan whenever he remembers to not only pull air in but to also push it back out.

He remembers to put his palm over his mouth and muffle himself, but after a while Reyn changes angles a bit, and he seems to strike gold. He has one of Dunban’s legs curled around his hip, the other over his shoulder, twisting the hero’s hips as he gives it to him practically sideways.

Before he even hears his muffled, hoarse cry into his palm, Reyn feels Dunban’s whole body convulse with the new pressure against old places, and knows that he’s done good. He’s fucked enough people over the past two years two know when he makes them feel _good._

More than good, even, if Dunban’s hell hitting against his back is anything to go by. It hurts what with Dunban still wearing his boots, but it is a small sacrifice to make.

There’s a mess on the other man’s tight belly; thick streaks of cum mixed with not-so-thick streaks from his second orgasm. Reyn’ll later wipe it off with the cloth he uses to clean his weapon, but for now he ogles the sight of Dunban’s brick red cock trapped in the crease of his leg.

He’s not completely hard at this point, but he looks tender as Hell, and like he’d jump out of his skin if Reyn were so much as breathe against his overworked dick.

He feels like his balls are swimming in some kind of hot soup in his armor. They feel swollen to roughly double their size, aching whenever he moves his hips and they so much as lightly swing in their confines.

He thinks he’ll have to shoot a load like a goddamn Ardun. Dunban’ll be swollen with it.

There’s a hoarse cry for just a second when Dunban’s hand slips away, and Reyn slaps his own over the hero’s mouth in pure animal reaction, cutting the sound off as if with a sharp knife.

“...Dunban?” Shulk calls sleepily. Reyn curses under his breath, hips still snapping, pumping into Dunban relentlessly.

“All good, mate! Just stepped on his foot on accident!” he calls back, clearly breathless. If Shulk has noticed anything…

...he doesn’t say it.


	6. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – micro dick; humiliation; insecurity; tears – It gets to Jack’s head and Gabriel is exasperated.
> 
> Prequel: B35F9  
> Sequel: B37F8

It’s an absolutely surreal feeling to be able to hold a cock in your mouth as if it were nothing more like one of those gummy bear suckers that Gabriel had liked as a kid. He can drag his tongue around and around the little dick, manipulating it up against the roof of his mouth so he can really focus in on the wrinkly micro tip.

If Jack had been hard before, he doesn’t seem so now. It barely even pings on Gabriel’s radar as he keeps playing with the little mouth full. Every now and then he even smacks his lips around the base. It’s been years that he’s had a lollipop; he’s never fancied himself to be someone with an oral fixation, but goddamn Jack’s raisin cock is giving it to him hard.

He’s so deeply involved with the sensation that when Jack’s heels hit his back, it takes a while for it to register to his overheated brain. He hasn’t paid much attention to the old boy; not when he is presented with something as tasty as that micro dick he’s sporting nowadays.

Gabriel would be hard pressed at this point to say whether he enjoyed Jack’s massive bull cock more than this adorable, shrivelled up thing.

The kicks to his back are not hard; like they are just a result out of Jack struggling in general, which… he is. Gabriel pulls back with a wet, greedy pop, his lips tingling from the whole experience. He looks up Jack’s body and slowly blinks, trying to have his brain come back online after he shut it down so nicely to just _experience_ and _feel._

Jack has twisted somewhat on his side, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. Gabriel can just about see the twist of his mouth, the scar running through it making it look even more severe as he gnashes his teeth and seems to try to stay quiet.

Cold seeps through his body. He sits up abruptly so Jack’s legs slide off his shoulders.

As soon as the guy’s free, he rolls to his side, almost into a fetal position. The cold crawling through Gabriel’s body takes up speed, making him feel numb and a little panicky when he sees wetness glistening on the tops of Jack’s cheeks where tears have seeped through even though he is pressing his hands so hard into his eye sockets that it had to hurt like a bitch.

“What the fuck,” Gabriel whispers, then reaches out and grabs the first best thing he can grab, which is Jack’s thigh. He gives it a little jostle. “Hey… Jack?... Jackie? What’s wrong?”

He feels like a much younger man as he stares at him, having no idea how to handle the tears of an old soldier that has gone through as much shit as Jack and he have. The thought that he has inadvertently managed what others have not gotten to do in decades is sitting sour in his stomach.

Had he broken Jack?

Jack doesn’t answer him either way. His chest is heaving and he keeps pressing his heels into his eyes until Gabriel fears he will blind himself. He crawls a bit further up on the bed, grabbing Jack’s wrists and roughly pulling his hands away from his face as long as he still has the momentum of surprise on his side.

Jack’s pale blue eyes blink blearily, then look up at him for just a split second before he clenches them shut and turns his head away.

“Don’t fucking look at me,” he rasps, his voice even more raspy than usual. Now that he isn’t trying to push his eyes through the goddamn back of his head, the tears are streaming freely, dripping over his nose since he is lying on his side.

Gabriel is at a complete loss. He slowly lets go of Jack’s wrists, then puts a hand on his shoulder after having it hang in the air in indecision.

“...hey. Jack. What happened? Did I… hurt you?” It feels wrong to even say it. He doesn’t think a pain in the world could make Jack Morrison break down crying. At least not anything physical.

Jack grunts and suddenly jerks his elbow back, ramming it into Gabriel’s side.

“No. Fuck. Just… leave it, okay?”

Gabriel pulls a face. The hit has knocked the air out of him. He gingerly rubs the spot, his frown growing tighter.

“No. What happened?”

Jack is quiet again, his chin wobbling every now and then. When he finally speaks, all the anger has fizzled out in favor of him sounding goddamn heartbroken.

“You gonna dump me after this, aren’t you?” Before Gabriel can answer, he continues: “You’re just going to have one last laugh at me and then you’re off because I’m a fucking pathetic old piece of shit and you’re… you’re…”

Jack presses a hand over his face again and heaves one big sob. Gabriel doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Jack is behaving like a drunk bastard, sure, but Gabriel is the idiot who feels torn up about it.

He reaches out again, grabbing Jack’s shoulder, then thinks better of it and slowly pets over his arm.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he murmurs. “I thought we were having a good time just now. I-”

“You expect me to believe that?! That you _actually_ like this little… little _thing_ I got now?!”

Jack’s raspy voice breaks and gets comically high for a second. Gabriel sighs and slowly lies down behind him, plastering himself against Jack’s back, knees pressed into the back of Jack’s knees. He curls an arm around his hip, holding on as he thinks.

“You know… the things I said,” he says finally. “I thought you wanted it too. I was just shittalking you, Jackie. Don’t mean I’m not enjoying the hell outta it.”

He’s not the best to talk about _feelings_ , but Jack is even worse at it. He starts squirming within seconds, trying to get away so he won’t have to listen to it. Gabriel holds on tight, forehead pressing against the back of Jack’s shoulder.

He started it, so he’ll have to sit through it.

“I haven’t locked by dick away like some maniac, but I… I was waiting for you, you know? I was hoping for us to end up here eventually. I don’t want anybody else, no matter what junk they have. I don’t care that you got a dick like a raisin. Other than that I think it’s stupid hot.”

Jack had tried again to elbow him in the side, but this time Gabriel had been prepared and wraps around him like a vice to not let him get away with anything at all, really. 

Jack heaves a big sob yet again. He has his eyes clenched tightly shut and is biting his bottom lip viciously enough that Gabriel is surprised he hasn’t drawn blood yet.

However, he does eventually start to calm down, his breathing no longer hitching and evening out until Gabriel nuzzles the back of his head and murmurs: “Alright?”

“...Yeah… yeah, alright…”

“Next time fuckin’ tell me if something’s wrong.”

“...Hmn.”

There’s no thinking about resuming where they left off, so Gabriel tells Athena to let them listen to a bit of radio to fill the silence. They lie there for hours, tightly pressed to one another.


	7. Bruce/Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce/Jason – rape tw; somnophilia; consensual rape – Jason goes at it, but we also see a different view...
> 
> Prequel: B35F8  
> Sequel: B37F7

Jason doesn’t move for a few heartbeats that seem a lot longer than they really are when he is buried in B to the hilt and can feel how secure the grip of his insides around his cock is.

B turns his head to the other side. He grunts very softly and starts to shift his legs but when his body encounters the slightest bit of resistance he stops moving immediately, sinking back down into the mattress.

Lulled back to sleep by a cock up his tailpipe. Jason had always known that B would be a big anal slut. He clearly showed it in his stiff posture; his playboy attitude that he was so adamant to show the outside world.

Jason wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he found out that B loved having his lady friends tickle his asshole as he fucked them just so he’d be able to shoot. B was oldschool like that. And stubborn.

Jason inhales deeply. It does not matter now. Not when he is balls deep in that stingy tight virgin cunt and feels how perfectly Bruce is accepting it. He’s used a liberal amount of lube, but it seems to have somewhat evaporated now. When Jason pulls back, the burn is just enough to send a pleasant warmth skittering through his abdomen and have his eyes go to half-mast.

He doesn’t know how he ever thought that giving him just the tip would be enough. Jason has discipline. But not that much. Bruce’s insides are hot like molten stone – so different than his usual disposition of cool indifference. As Jason pulls back and watches his shaft emerge glistening wet, he can watch B’s hole pouting outward, clinging desperately to the intrusion.

There’s not a speck of blood anywhere to be seen. Jason is, to be quite frank, surprised about that. It’s not like he has been out to ripping that little virgin cunt as he raped it, but the thought of being able to do that to B and have him sleep through the whole thing is not bad if he is being honest.

As is, Jason is living his best life fucking a sleeping Bruce Wayne in his big ostentatious bed that he’s disappointed so many ladies in. They’re all classy, of course. They’d never say as much – or maybe Bruce pays them enough to stay quiet. Jason isn’t sure about it and he doesn’t care, not really.

What he _does_ care about is to keep slowly pumping that not-so-virgin-anymore pussy that he’s got pulled on his cock. He fancies himself as more of a service top in the bedroom, but with B sleeping through the whole thing, he doesn’t need to put too much effort into it.

He doesn’t have to kiss and nibble and pinch, he can just brace himself next to Bruce’s broad shoulders and fuck into him as if he were doing push-ups at the gym.

The feeling of sinking into Bruce’s hot body is… indescribable. The tip of his cock is tingling as it drags along the bumpy walls of Bruce’s intestines. The burn where the slick has been wiped off by him fucking into the tight grip of the virgin hole is slowly spreading through his body and making him short of breath.

Who would have thought that Bruce could be such a phenomenal lay without doing a single thing to help it along? Jason grunts softly in his ear, and watches how he ruffles the jet black hair with his breath. That’s how close he is to him. And still, Bruce is sleeping, his mouth slack, his eyebrows relaxed after his brief little show of fussing around earlier.

Lulled to sleep like a babe just from a fat dick raping him. Showing him a good time. It’s a damn shame he doesn’t even realize it is happening.

Jason reaches down, head swimming in that horny space where everything seems good and perfect and like a goddamn _stellar_ idea. He grabs Bruce’s leg and pulls the knee up, freeing some space for him to better pound him. Harder until there are soft slaps echoing through the room alongside his soft grunts of exertion.

It doesn’t occur to him that there can be absolutely no way that Bruce would sleep through the treatment.

His eyes have fallen closed, head fallen forward, hair tickling between Bruce’s shoulder blades as he dicks him with more and more abandon, the slick slide of his cock inside the tight grip of B’s swollen anal muscles loud and nasty.

Bruce’s eyebrows are pinched once more, his mouth open and plump, wet from the tongue that occasionally drags over it. His fingers are dug into the bedding, holding on for the ride as he gets ploughed by the young stud that had somehow snuck his way into his bedroom.

His cock is a painfully hard line trapped somewhere in the slick folds of the his expensive silk sheets and beneath the combined weight of himself and Jason bearing down on him with zero shyness.

It _aches_ to have the weight of two grown men on his dick, but it is also… strangely welcome. He can feel how wet he’s gotten the silk. It is clinging desperately to his skin and slip sliding over the naked tip whenever Jason grunt fucks into him and jostles him up the bed.

He feels bloated with cock. His muscles are spread so… so wide, the feeling is radiating through his body and giving him all kinds of weird, mixed feelings. He can feel himself growing closer and closer to that peak and it becomes harder and harder to not make a sound; to try and keep placid and let Jason get away with… with raping him.

He is so close. The tingling at the tip of his cock has morphed into something _achingly_ _painful_. It sets his teeth on edge and has tears itching the corners of his eyes. He wants to curl his hips and try to fuck into the wet, hot grasp of the sheets but he also does not want Jason to realize that he is awake.

It’s been _years_ since he felt so close to the kid.

Above him, Jason suddenly grunts deeply as he ruts in hard enough to make Bruce feel like he’ll have to taste his cock on the back of his tongue. He can feel it flexing inside him, even; the weirdest feeling to boot.

And then… Jason slowly lays down on him, crushing him deeper into the bed, wiping his sweaty forehead between Bruce’s shoulder blades.

It occurs to him that Jason has shot his load into him. Bruce is hard as a diamond but he can’t do a damn thing about it without jostling Jason off of him. He’ll just have to wait until he rolls off and goes on his merry way after having raped a ‘sleeping’ Batman.

Only he doesn’t go.

He stays.

And sleeps.

 _Truly_ fucking Bruce.


	8. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – blackmailing – Hanzo meets his blackmailer. They have a short conversation. Both are cool with continuing it?
> 
> Prequel: B35F10  
> Sequel: B37F9

Fifteen minutes before midnight, Hanzo puts an empty drive on the red crate in hangar 2 and then swings himself up into the rafters where he perches like a bird, patiently watching the quiet space.

He had not complied to the demands of course but he was interested whether the blackmailer would be stupid enough to come and collect right at midnight. And in person, no less.

When he hears the jangling of spurs, he smirks and relaxes somewhat more. Ah. So it was the idiot after all. He slowly rubs his palm over his chin as he watches McCree enter the picture, making a beeline for the red crate. His long legs eat the distance easily, heels thumping satisfyingly against the ground.

There’s always been something damnably sexy about his swaggering walk, though he’d never thought the guy’d be such a nervous blackmailer.

McCree seems too lazy to blackmail anyone for that matter, but the fact is that he is reaching out and easily palms the drive without a second thought. Hanzo hums thoughtfully. How disappointing and exciting at the exact same time.

He jumps down when McCree turns and lands in front of him with a little thud. He’s close enough to hear his sharp inhale as he jerks back, startling badly at the sudden appearance.

His face, when Hanzo straightens up, is priceless but he catches himself again surprisingly quickly, groaning and holding up the fist with the hard drive.

“It’s empty, ain’t it?”

Hanzo smirks and does not need to answer. McCree throws him the drive with a soft curse, and he catches it out of the air, quietly looking him up and down.

“I didn’t think you’d have it in you, McCree. I almost thought it’d be Winston.”

Jesse snorts and starts to walk. Hanzo falls in step next to him, noting that there is no shame to be seen anywhere in McCree’s posture.

“That kinda was the plan. Thought it’d be more fun that way.”

Hanzo hums thoughtfully, pocketing the drive. They walk amicably enough for the fact that McCree had clearly seen – and captured – Hanzo getting fucked by his dragons right out in the open. He almost regrets having let the whole charade come to an end to quickly, but McCree proves to be a lot more fun than that.

There’s a hitch in Hanzo’s step – almost a stumble – when McCree throws his arm around his shoulders without warming and pulls him into his side. Shoulder wedged beneath the American’s stinking armpit, Hanzo stares up at him with a deep frown on his face, ready to dislocate the man’s arm.

“But now that I got you right here,” McCree drawls, the vibration of his bassy voice now tickling through Hanzo’s body, “we can at least talk eye-to-eye, yeah?”

Hanzo hums, eyes narrowing as he digs his elbow sharply into McCree’s side to hear him grunt and get out from beneath the heavy drape of his arm. He makes a show out of wiping non-existent dirt off his person and righting the shirt he is wearing. A couple years back when he still had his expensive suits it would have been more impressive but he can see from the look McCree is throwing him that it works just fine with this unrefined brute of a man.

McCree tips his hat up a little to be able to better ogle Hanzo.

“Nice show, buddy. But then again, we know that you’re good at them, right?”

“What do you want, McCree,” he replies, face completely blank even though he quite enjoys the hint of danger and play that is currently intertwining between them.

“You wanna do this here out in the open?” McCree asks on another lazy drawl, eyes sizing Hanzo up from head to toe. “Got no problem with it, mind. Just thought you’d be more private than that.”

Hanzo scoffs. He slams his hand against a door, peeking inside whether the room behind it is empty, then grabs McCree and hauls him inside. He still has the stench of the man’s sweat prickling his nose. It is disgusting and shouldn’t make him as hot as it does.

The room they’re in hasn’t been used in decades it looks like; the dust on the tables and chairs is thick, but Hanzo does not intend to touch any of it. Instead he pushes McCree against the furniture and curls a hand around his thick neck, not squeezing… hard.

“Just state your business, McCree. it is late.”

McCree manages a slow lift of a corner of his mouth, looking infuriatingly calm despite his voice being somewhat pressed from the cruel fingers around his windpipe.

“What- gotta run home and fuck your critters?”

Hanzo’s eyes narrow. For a moment he squeezes tighter, then loosens his grip again, though never completely taking his hand away.

“I don’t have to explain myself to a swine,” he murmurs, slowly leaning away to look McCree up and down. He’s wearing his chaps again like usual, but the bulge of his crotch is too pronounced to just be a result of those. Hanzo scoffs and finally lets go of him.

“You are disgusting,” he spits out, once more righting his clothes to hide how flustered he is becoming.

McCree doesn’t become defensive. He just stands there and grins, slowly rubbing his aching throat. He’s not hiding the heavy bulge so prominently visible now. If anything, he might even be tilting his hips forward a bit, showing off.

“So? Are ya gonna have a bit o’ fun? I’d really like to watch.”

“You’re a disgusting, voyeuristic pig. Why should I let you watch?”

“So you’re gonna do it?”

McCree’s voice goes distinctly more breathless. He sounds like a horny teen. The way his eyes glint as he stares at Hanzo is almost endearing.

Hanzo clucks his tongue and turns his back to him, going to walk out without another word.

“Hey. Ya know I still got all those files o’ you and your boys.”

Hanzo pauses for a moment, then smirks.

“Would be horrible if you kept on blackmailing me,” he croons, then leaves.


	9. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – somnophilia; extreme cum inflation – Gabriel just thinks he can repay the favor but it backfires tremendously.
> 
> Prequel: B35F11  
> Sequel: B37F10

Gabriel feels… bloated when he wakes. It is the first thing that really registers when his brain comes online. The second thing he registers as he groans and slowly reaches to rub his belly is that it is already bright outside and the sun is threatening to blind him.

He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, hand cupping his stomach. The fuck is he feeling so bloated for?

So spread and… filled…

Gabriel groans softly and tries to shift, which is when everything starts to click into place – namely that Jack is plastered to his back in a way that almost buries him beneath the heavy stack of bricks, and that the reason he feels so full and bloated is because the dumb asshole is balls deep inside him.

The knot is no longer swollen, but Gabriel would bet good money that as he’d been out cold Jack has fucked him like a bitch and stayed knotted right until he fell asleep like a babe.

He grunts and digs his elbow into Jack’s belly to try and push him off of him. It takes a little while but eventually Jack rolls over with a snort and his limp cock slips out of Gabriel, leaving him no longer feeling so stuffed but also with the slow nasty trickle of the cum that had been pumped into him.

He feels himself flush with embarrassment. Had he been _this_ tired? He can’t believe that he should have slept through Jack mounting him… He carefully turns around, trying to keep the mess to a minimum – but since Jack had started fucking him on his knot recently, his muscles have been rather… loose.

Actually… the thought of getting mounted and bred while he slept was kind of… hot. Though he would never admit as much to Jack, of course. Bastard was already too damn smug for his own good.

Jack is on his back, snoring something fierce, his face as slack as his cock is limp. For now. Gabriel huffs and straddles him, heat slowly crawling up from his chest and up into his neck as he feels himself leaking the creamy mess Jack had left him with. He’s a menace and a half, even as an old man. He’s _his_ menace, though.

It’s no problem at all to get Jack nice and hard again. His age seems to have not been a detriment to him being always ready for it. He only needs Gabe’s hand, lightly squeezing the heavy cock, and a thumb rubbing insistently in tight circles around the tip, and already he is starting to fill beautifully.

It’s only his right to have his way with Jack’s body after Jack has helped himself to his, he thinks. Jack was a freak and a half. He wouldn’t mind having his Omega riding him until his hips felt achy and throbbing. He loved telling Gabriel how much he was into his fat ass, after all; getting his hips grounded to dust by it would be a privilege, Gabe is sure.

When he’d woken up, the filling had been… too much, too sudden, too everything, but now as he lets the fat tip slip into his shamefully swollen, loose hole it feels like something inside him goes nice and calm.

Gabriel groans softly on a long sigh, his head sinking back, eyes closing. He still is a bit lethargic from sleep, his movements slow and self-indulgent as he begins to ruck his hips, dragging his ass against Jack leisurely.

Jack’s snore doesn’t even hitch. Gabriel makes himself open one eye into a slit, staring down, trying to discern whether Jack is just playing games with him and pretending to be asleep, but he can’t really figure it out. Jack’s face is still slack, his hands up against his shoulders.

He looks deliciously helpless for an Alpha; a sight Gabriel is always particularly fond of.

He leans forward, hands planted left and right to Jack’s head. Like this he can watch the Alpha’s calm face as he slowly moves his slick insides along the warm cock filling him. He misses the stretch he had felt once upon a time, but this easy no-need-for-preparation also satisfied something primal inside him.

He just wishes he could have it all. The stretch and burn and gentle pain of initial entry, and the certainty of just having to bend over and present and have Jack pound him like the old Alpha stud he was until Gabriel felt nice and brainless from it.

It’s a weird power rush to be able to fuck someone as they slept. He’s not particularly trying not to jostle him too much, but Jack just sleeps through it anyway. Maybe it is because their bodies are so intimately used to one another? Gabriel could not start to fathom the reason.

In any case, Jack’s knot is… swelling. And swelling. And _swelling_.

Gabriel’s mouth falls open and his breath hitches. He’s not been too close to coming, so the fact that Jack apparently has the trigger of a young teen Alpha when he is asleep hits him unprepared.

It also hits him unprepared that Jack doesn’t seem to… the knot doesn’t seem to… It just doesn’t stop _swelling_. It is far beyond the usual gentle stretch that Jack has started to train him into taking, and feels more like a goddamn balloon.

What was happening?

By the time the swelling finally stops, Gabriel is almost drooling, slumped over and whimpering on every exhale, his body strung tight and shivering in a way it hadn’t been in years. Decades. Maybe even since the very first time he fucked someone.

The true ordeal begins only when Jack starts to come. And come. And come.

Gabriel can feel his belly swelling. he needs to sit up straight because the pressure doesn’t allow him to hunch over as he has been up until now. He wants to shake Jack awake, but at this point he doesn’t think that he’d wake up.

Something is _wrong_. Or… not wrong per se, but… this is all… it is weird. It is like getting mounted by his long-time Alpha like this has suddenly jump started some weird SEP shit, and now when Gabriel looks down he can see… oh damn…

He can see his own belly, swollen like a pregnant person’s, and growing still as Jack keeps pumping him full of cum, swamping his insides.

It is painful and… pretty scary. Suddenly Gabriel wonders if it is possible for Jack’s body to just… not stop. To pump him full until he burst like an overripe cherry.

His breath hitches, hands on Jack’s pecs, grabbing them mindlessly as he tries to breathe through the immense filling and the sloshing feeling that pings all kind of weird nerve endings whenever he shifts the slightest bit.

Just when he feels ready to scream for help, it all just… stops as suddenly as it began.

Jack looks still out of it. Maybe even unconscious at this point. Gabriel is sitting on him like one would sit on a nest of thorns, scared to move even a muscle and hoping that the knot would deflate enough to let him... expel… the mess.

It does not deflate, however. At least not after Jack’s usual knotting times.

Gabriel whimpers, eyes clenched tightly shut. He’ll have to wait this one out.


	10. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – RAPE TW; Jesse asked for it but it’s still p graphic; dissociation; victim blaming – Right what it says on the warning tin. there most likely will be a hurt/comfort part coming up next batch.
> 
> Prequel: B35F7  
> Sequel: B37F11

Once the swollen tip is inside Jesse, cramming the rest in is not all that hard. Jesse has his head on the ground, off to the side so he would still be able to breathe. There’s a nasty swelling already forming on his forehead where Hanzo had slammed it into the ground.

His face is wet with sweat and tears, his hips still trying to buck him off and only managing to help Hanzo deeper inside his resisting body.

When Hanzo had been younger and still the heir of a Yakuza empire, he had been present for a few brutalizations, but he has never felt the need to step in and taste it for himself. He doesn’t think he would have even half enjoyed any of those as much as he loves hate fucking Jesse now, and squeezing himself into him dry.

There is no other word for it, too. He loves Jesse, obviously, but what he is doing now is… he would like it to be a product of love for him. Maybe it had been once upon a time when Jesse had asked him for it with a voice that had cracked and trembled, but now…

The greed to make it hurt and to ram deeper is too large, too all-encompassing to be anything but hate. Not focused on Jesse, of course, but-

Hanzo pulls back a little, then fucks into him once more, sliding just a tad deeper. His balls are first only brushing against Jesse’s perineum, but eventually press against it as he bottoms out and feels the feverish heat inside Jesse’s body. It’s different to usual, somehow. It feels hotter and tighter; probably due to Jesse being so upset about the whole thing.

“Why are you fighting it?” Hanzo asks, voice rough. It doesn’t sound like himself, even to his own ears. He grabs Jesse’s messy hair in a hard, unrelenting fist and pulls back on his head, forcing his back to bend and lift his ass into his raping. “You asked for it, didn’t you? You _begged_ for it,” he continues heartlessly, hips snapping, pushing into Jesse. It feels a little easier now to deep dick him; as if finally getting to spear his dry hole on the length of his cock has made it more amenable to the whole thing.

Jesse is breathing deep; it sounds wet, his hands curled into tight fists. When Hanzo really dicks into him so his hips smack loud into Jesse’s hairy cheeks, Jesse heaves violently enough that Hanzo thinks he will actually puke.

He does so a few times, dry heaving so hard that Hanzo almost goes cross-eyed with how tight Jesse’s insides become around his dick.

It only takes Hanzo shaking Jesse’s head as if he were a wet mutt, and a growled: “Don’t you dare…” to get him to calm down, however.

And calm down he does. Jesse becomes very quiet and limp. It takes Hanzo a while to even notice it, focused as he is on grunt fucking Jesse after he hasn’t had that nice cunt for weeks. Months. It is his to use, isn’t it? It is his right as Jesse’s significant other to have access to his body whenever he wishes to…

Especially after someone else has had the satisfaction of deep dicking him into a sloppy mess without Hanzo’s permission…

When Hanzo finally does look up, Jesse’s quiet pinging on his radar after all, Jesse’s face is slack, his eyes empty. Hanzo recognizes the look immediately; he had seen it not too long ago when he’s barged into the Talon base and saw Jesse sitting on Reinhardt’s chest, impaled by a cock so massive it had this grown man’s belly bulging with it.

He looks exactly like that; calm and detached. Braindead, maybe. Hanzo is breathing deeply, sweat slowly running down his temples in thick pearls. His balls ache with the need to empty themselves, hips still hunching even as he tries to figure out what happened to Jesse who has been so very quiet for a while now, just letting everything happen to him.

Hanzo doesn’t talk to him, but he does pull at his hair to twist his head a bit more and be able to see his face while he fucks him. McCree is a sturdy bastard and can take a rough pounding, even though the teary-eyed and blank expression on his face tells another story.

Part of Hanzo knows that he should stop what he is doing, but the need to see the act to the end outweighs the nagging feeling at the back of his head that maybe he is fucking things up further for Jesse.

By now the slide into him is smooth and slick, letting Hanzo pound in fast staccato thrusts that have his breath hitch and his blood boil. His abdomen feels tight, and grows ever tighter as he nears his peak.

If Jesse is swollen, the tip of his cock has to be trapped between his belly and the tight, unrelenting hardness of the floor. Hanzo doesn’t even do him the favor of reaching around and trying to find it with a rudely grasping hand.

His grunts, accentuated by the odd jell, echo through the large, empty room. When he finally comes, the balls of his feet dig against the ground to get as deep as possible, and a high-pitched whistle fills his head, ending in a deafening ring in his ears.

When everything starts to calm down, and his frantic panting slows somewhat, he finally lets himself pull out and sit back against his heels.

He opens his eyes, wipes the back of his arm over his sweaty forehead, then looks down at Jesse. He is slowly blinking, seemingly coming out of whatever trance has descended upon him, which… is good.

But he is very slow and sluggish. He seems disoriented until Hanzo puts his hand on the small of his back and slowly swipes his thumb against his skin. He stiffens, then rolls his eyes until he can just about see his lover kneeling behind him.

Hanzo exhales softly when he feels him relax again.

“Come. Back to our rooms.”

Jesse nods slowly but he seems helpless as a babe. Hanzo reaches down to help him put his clothes back on.

He pauses for a second when he sees what has helped slick the way so perfectly the last few minutes, but has to push through the queasiness quickly dissuading the prickling warmth in his guts.

He had to deal with that when they were alone.


End file.
